All Alone Now
by fischfrau
Summary: That grin again. Apparently Blake was up to no good. "No, pussy. Your sorry ass is fired. I saw to it personally. It seems as if even you with your fancy glasses can't work this case out." ABANDONED!
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is the first fic I've ever published, so please don't be too hard on me, okay? :) Furthermore, you should know that English isn't my native tongue, so please forgive me any grammatical/spelling errors. ;)**

**This is, in case you haven't noticed yet, a Blake/Jayden fanfiction which will involve some smutty stuff later on. Don't like, don't read, it's that simple. ;)**

**I am making no profit off this wall of text, and all characters belong to Quantic Dream, sadly.**

* * *

_So, this was it._

_Never before had he felt so incredibly helpless. He knew where the Origami Killer was and he knew no-one – especially Blake - would believe him. He knew how to stop this nightmare, knew he could save Shaun._

_Nobody would help him. He would have to go to the warehouse alone, would have to face the Killer on his own._

_But this was about an innocent child, goddamn! If he wasn't going to save the kid, it was like he was committing a crime all of his own. There was no chance in hell he would risk that. It was his duty to save the victim!_

_Swallowing audibly, he stood, grabbing the ARI lying on the dusty desk before him and left his so called office. When he was heading for the department's exit, he briefly glanced at that asshole Blake sitting in front of his computer, apparently completely occupied with whatever he was doing at the moment._

_Oh, how he hated that arrogant jerk. If the agent was going to die, it was all the tyrannical lieutenant's fault, that was for sure._

_It was raining even more than ever, and Norman found it really tempting to simply stay in his car, where he was safe from the drenching wet and the freezing cold. But he had a job to do, a child's life was depending on him, so he stepped out of his vehicle and rushed for the entrance of the old, rather menacing warehouse._

_His hand instinctively reached into his coat and for his gun; it always made him feel more confident, knowing that if the Origami Killer decided on attacking him, only one crook of his finger would end the fight immediately. Since he'd killed Nathaniel accidentally, there weren't any inhibitions left within him. Besides, that lunatic Origami Killer deserved death._

_He halted for a moment, pressing his body against the metal gate so the rain wouldn't soak him as much. How in hell could he decide whether or not someone was worthy of living? Blake's bastard attitude must have rubbed off on him, he guessed, and that thought made him want to puke for some reason. He had nothing in common with that idiot!_

_He grit his teeth, adrenaline coursing through his body. There was the awareness that he could die now, just like that, if he wasn't going to be careful enough. For a moment he only listened to the raindrops falling down on the ground, the rhythmical sound somewhat calming him down. Breathing in and out deeply, he finally opened the heavy gate, pushing it open and entering the huge hall._

_A rather unpleasant stench greeted his nose as he was treading on to the basin at the end of the warehouse. He heard the rustle of water as he approached, and he felt a bit light-headed when he caught sight of the poor kid hanging in the water. Apparently Shaun was unconscious already, so Norman got here just in time._

_World seemed to slow down then, his heart beating fast with excitement over his triumph in finding the child. A grid covered the basin, and eyeing the lock that would seemingly open only with a key, the agent determinedly grabbed his gun and destroyed the iron hook, quickly lifting the grate and pushing it away. He was so close now..._

"_What are you doing here? You're not his father!"_

_Startled, Norman turned to the source of the appalled voice. A fist connected with his cheek before he even registered it, sending him to the ground in a painful manner. This, he truly hadn't expected at all. Was this the Origami Killer? From the brief glance he had gotten of the person he could tell that maybe he stood a chance against him as the man didn't look very tough or anything..._

_He got up on one knee, glaring at the lunatic. There wasn't much time left for Shaun, so he grabbed his gun lying on the ground next to him-_

"_You looking for that?" The killer, a rather old man with a big belly, pointed the gun at Jayden, who immediately froze in his tracks. Shit. This situation was getting out of hand. And Shaun..._

"_Goddamn! Leave that kid be! He's got nothing to do with this!" Norman yelled out desperately, hoping the man would come to his senses. "Don't you see that these kids are dying in vain?" Another step forward and the gun was shoved ruthlessly into the young man's face. His breath hitched, heart skipping a beat, hands beginning to tremble slightly with stress._

_Apparently there was no way to settle this without the use of violence..._

"_I think you should take a nap now. Sleep well, asshole." And with those words, the unimpressed Origami Killer struck him a blow with the gun, effectively sending the agent into the deep abyss of unconsciousness._


	2. Chapter 2

The police department was rather quiet today. He was sitting in front of Perry's office, watching a few policemen doing their work. Several moments ago, he had still been at the press conference, but had decided to leave as the reporters' questions had been getting quite obtrusive. He hadn't seen much, after all. After the fatal hit he'd fainted, so there wasn't much he could tell these vultures anyways.

Oh boy. He had been too weak. Shaun was dead because of his incompetence. Whenever he recalled the swollen face of the kid, his guts started to quiver with a feeling of nausea and remorse, and it increasingly became a strain to block out that terrible picture. Somehow, he couldn't disabuse himself of the notion that he was the one who should have drowned...

If only Blake had placed a little trust in his partner's investigation, maybe then there would have been a different outcome for Shaun; maybe then they had caught the Origami Killer...

"Jayden, what're you still doing here?"

Norman nearly jumped when Blake suddenly stood in front of him, without him even noticing. Inwardly though, he thanked for the lieutenant's distraction. Memories once again had taken over his thoughts, making him forcibly relive the horrible encounter with the killer.

"Waiting for Perry. Now get lost," the agent said matter-of-factly, trying to hide the hatred he bore for that ignorant asshole. How he'd have loved to make Blake suffer the way that he had to right now. Those pangs of conscience were a pain in the ass and tortured him to no end. And seeing that idiot jump around happily, as if nothing had happened at all, made him throw up. All over that jerk, mind you.

"Oh, reeeal snappy today, aren't we?" Blake said, leaning down slightly to look the young man in the eyes, a smug grin on his face. "You really shouldn't be so down. I mean, you got us new stuff to tell the press, and it was only a kid anyway-"

"Goddamn, Blake!" Norman shouted, pushing the other one away from him, suppressing the urge to kick him in the balls. "You fucking asshole don't even know how unsettling this all is! It's your fault Shaun had to die! And how dare you talk about the child like this at all?"

The grin on Blake's face disappeared and was replaced by an ugly snarl.

"You're the FBI-agent here, pussy, not me! I've had nothing to do with your failure in the first place!" he snapped, clenching his hands threateningly, as if he was about to beat Jayden (which unsurprisingly wouldn't be the first time).

"We're fucking partners!" Norman exclaimed, getting up from his chair at last, his face mere inches away from Blake's. He could feel the other one's breath on his skin and suddenly he wondered how in hell he even got that close to him at all. Backing off, he watched as Blake's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No, pansy, we _were_ partners!"

The hiss was full of venom and animosity, leaving Jayden dazzled for a moment. Gross, the lieutenant must have been the biggest asshole he'd ever worked with.

"So you're resigning the case, or what?" the agent asked boldly. "You're giving up just like that?"

That grin again. Apparently Blake was up to no good. "No, pussy. Your sorry ass is fired. I saw to it personally. It seems as if even you with your fancy glasses can't work this case out."

Shocked at these words, Norman took a step back, tripping over the chair and catching himself just in time. He sat down, trying to process these news. This could not be happening, right? He was the only one capable of capturing that damned Origami Killer, nearly succeeded in it, and now they wanted him gone?

"But... why?" the young man asked himself, looking quite distraught. "What did I do wrong?"

An amused snort came from Blake. "Well, I can't stand you, that's all. I'll get another partner, and hopefully this time, they know who calls the shots here."

Clenching his teeth, it took all of Norman's self-control not to beat the living shit out of the man before him (not that he would ever be able to do that, anyways). Anger made him see red and he was sure the face he was making right now wasn't pretty at all.

Yet, he's had it with Blake. He actually felt kinda relieved to be free of this idiot now and the fury at least distracted him from the sorrows plaguing him at the moment.

"Please do me a favor and get out of my sight, asshole," he muttered, sitting down on the chair in front of Perry's office again. Never ever had he been so pissed off in his life as he was right now. Folding his arms before his chest, he let out a huff of irritation.

That snotty grin just wouldn't disappear. "Yeah yeah, but know that I feel real sorry for ya, kid."

Norman closed his eyes and willed that bastard away. He took deep breaths to calm himself down; after all he still had an appointment with Perry. It surely wouldn't do his already dented image any good if he was yelling at the captain just because of his bad temper.

"God, just stop provoking me, Blake, and get the fuck lost!" With his eyes still closed he only hoped that the idiot would comply with his request.

After some seconds, he opened his eyes again, relieved that Blake was nowhere near his sight. He let out a sigh of exhaustion and rubbed his temples while mixed feelings were washing over him.

So, was this the end? Was this where he was supposed to give in to the command of a single, arrogant jerk and probably let even more kids die at the hands of the phantom-like Origami Killer?

No, he thought with determination, this isn't how it's going to end. He'd almost single-handedly taken out that mean little fucker; and with him still on the run, he could do it again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely comments!**

* * *

There was a calming silence surrounding him in the forest, leaves falling to the ground around him with only the barest rustle. Norman preferred this environment whenever he reviewed his files, relishing the slight and warm breeze that sometimes grazed his skin. Here he could think clearly, without anyone disturbing his work.

Right now he wasn't investigating, however. He was sitting on the ground, lost in thought.

God, it served these bastards right that he had told absolutely no-one about how the killer looked. If anyone was going to catch that sick lunatic, it was going to be him.

His superiors had told him to go on vacation, to recharge his batteries and take distance from the case, but Norman just couldn't see himself doing that. It was his duty to hunt that killer down to be finally acknowledged for his profiling abilities, so that nobody would ever treat him like shit again.

And then that dickface Blake snuck into his thoughts again. Ever since the lieutenant had informed him of the end of their partnership in the most sensitive manner Norman could ever have imagined, there were only few moments when he didn't think of that jerk. How could he have betrayed the agent so much? He had only been doing his job, he had been better than anyone in this godforsaken police department...

Standing up, Norman searched for something to kick around on the ground. It was really hard to control his aggressive thoughts lately. He guessed he was simply fed up...

Suddenly, the forest around him began to sway, his sight zooming in and out. Shit, he'd completely forgotten time while in his virtual reality... hastily, he grabbed the ARI and pulled it away from his eyes, finding himself standing in a hotel room with sparse furniture.

He sat down on the bed next to him, covering his face with his hands, rubbing his temples slowly. The addiction to the ARI and the tripto was increasingly getting worse, he'd noticed, and it worried him to no end. Actually, when he had put on the glasses earlier, he'd wanted to check a few files on the Origami Killer, find out his current location or something, but somehow, his thoughts had trailed off without him even noticing...

It disturbed him to no end to see how much of a mind wrack he had become since the death of Shaun 3 days ago. He hadn't eaten much since then, had spent most of his time in his virtual world, had almost fully depleted his tripto reserves...

He went into the bathroom, feeling a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. When he looked into the mirror, he didn't see much of himself in the reflection. Was he really that pale ghost-like person with that haggard stare?

Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh. This was really bad. He just couldn't go on like this...

* * *

„Oh honey, you're looking quite distracted..."

Carter Blake eyed up the hooker sitting on his lap, deciding she wouldn't be worth his time in less than a second. Those fake boobs of hers just looked awful and she stank terribly – alcohol and cigarettes mixed with puke, he guessed. If it weren't for the puke, he'd gladly have had a go at her.

So instead, he just roughly shoved her from him, ignoring the curses that ugly wench let loose.

Making himself comfortable in his leather seat, he took a swig from his cocktail, listening to the beat that was pumping throughout the club, watching young and pretty girls dancing. Many of them were completely smashed already, jerking around in a rather amusing manner.

He actually had no intention of getting drunk, yet he saw himself forced to drink away his sorrows anyways. The investigation wasn't really going on as he'd initially hoped – his new partner was a complete idiot, unable to find even the slightest clue concerning the identity or location of the Origami Killer.

It felt rather humiliating, but he had to admit he had made a minor mistake in firing that pansy FBI Jayden.

He drowned the rest of his drink in one gulp, immediately ordering another shot. The alcohol in his veins was making him drowsy and he found it increasingly difficult to think straight. Good. That would mean less miserable pangs of remorse for him...


	4. Chapter 4

**Slightly disturbing imagery here, be warned.**

* * *

His stomach was rumbling, yet he didn't feel even the slightest desire to eat anything. His head hurt, urging him to stop the torture he was inflicting upon his brain. His hands were numb, shaking from the straining exercise.

He had to keep on. Even as the red, warm fluid was leaking from his right eye.

He had to find him.

So many clues whirled around him, so much evidence.

He could make it.

And then he found him.

Normally, that was the point when he should have ripped the glasses off his face to escape his imminent death, to escape the never-ending whirl of pain which threatened to claim his mind.

Yet, he simply found himself staring straightforward, thoughts empty, the last remaining instinct within him ordering him to find peace in the virtual reality.

What would the capture of the killer change, anyways? Shaun was dead. Gone.

But the Origami Killer needed to receive the justice he deserved. It was _his_ duty to see to it!

A sigh, the sound low and soft, when the second eye began to bleed.

What if he caught him? What should he do then? There would be no reason to go on.

ARI... Triptocaine... why not end it right now? It seemed so easy and simple...

Slowly clenching his fists in overshadowing agony, he waited for something to happen, anything...

Anything could save him now, but he himself was helpless, powerless...

Blackness framed his sight, his breath went irregularly, then his eyes rolled back, lids closing to finally greet the coldness of death...

Then, a distant ringing, a sharp noise cutting through the silence of his end. He jerked up, eyes widening, something within him silently thanking for the distraction.

His cellphone. Someone was calling him.

With his remaining strength, he got rid of that damned ARI, tossing it aside carelessly. The hated and yet needed device fell to the ground with an audible clatter, further waking his mind which had already resigned.

The hotel room he was suddenly standing in was so colorful, so alive, so bright- and with his body not able to handle this reality, he ejected the little contents of his stomach all over the ground, nausea draining him of his last bit of pride.

He coughed once, twice, and he wiped the puke heedlessly from his mouth, the sour gastric acid staining the sleeve of his white shirt in a disgusting shade of green.

He reached for the phone still ringing on his desk, pushed the button to answer the call.

"Yeah," he rasped out, leaning against a wall to support his weak and shuddering frame.

"Jesus Christ, Jayden, you sound like you were just run over by a car or something!"

Touching his nose with an index finger and a thumb, he for some reason mentally grinned at the witty comment that had just been uttered. It took him a few seconds to grasp that Blake was on the line, and when he let that realization sink in, a pained groan left his throat.

"Hey pansy, what the fuck is wrong with you?" the lieutenant yelled, making Norman flinch slightly.

Still confused by his near death experience, he slowly let his body slide down against the wall, until he was sitting, catching a glimpse of the stuff that in fact belonged _inside_ his stomach.

"Goddamn Blake, you never let up, do you?" he whispered, this voice weak and without emotion.

"Fuck you! Tell me what's going on!" the older one insisted.

A small smile ghosted across the agent's lips when he thought of the peace he could have found mere seconds ago if that bastard hadn't phoned him.

"I'm not feeling well," he answered at last, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, serenity claiming his upset mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Slightly disturbing imagery here, be warned.**

**

* * *

**

The steady beat of his heart almost came to a halt when Carter Blake was finally standing in front of the door of the hotel room Norman was in. He didn't know why he felt like saving that kid's ass all of a sudden. But it sounded serious, and Jayden had sounded as if he was about to die. Blake couldn't let that happen. He needed the pansy agent alive if he ever wanted to capture the Origami Killer.

Taking a deep breath, he stood there for a short while, scared by the uncertainty that was lingering behind the splintered door. But goddamn him, he wouldn't allow that pansy FBI to kick the bucket- well, not yet anyways.

He knocked, then heard a rustle when Jayden apparently got up to open up for him. There was not much time for the lieutenant to wonder how the young man would be looking like...

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, absolutely perplexed by the kid's unsettling appearance. Hair messy, eyes veiled and unfocused, breath ragged and... blood? Were those trails of blood drying on his cheeks? And that acidic smell...

"Did you get in a fight or something?" he mused aloud, letting himself get pushed into the apartment, door closing behind him. He found this all too shocking to mock Jayden, as he usually did whenever he met the guy.

"The fuck's that? Puke or what?" he asked in disgust, his face contorting at the sight of the smelly junk splattered all across the ground.

"Look, you can go if you want, I don't care. Just shut the fuck up," the kid said, leaning against the wall and biting his lip. Blake was taking another step forward when suddenly he heard something crack beneath his foot. He lifted his leg to look down on the small vial he had just stomped upon.

Before he could ask any question, Jayden rushed at his side, jostling the lieutenant away. The latter was staring in wonderment when the haggard agent began collecting a few vials from the ground which hadn't been squished yet. Their content was blue, and by the hasty way the pansy scrambled to get them all to safety, he could tell that there was something wrong about them. Definitely.

"Drugs?" he commented in a curious tone, the regretful look on Norman's face fazing him a little.

There was silence for a moment before Jayden spoke. "I still don't get why you're here at all."

Blake could feel his temper rising again. "Don't you evade the question, you sick fuck! Answer me," he growled, grabbing the FBI by his collar, roughly shoving him against the wall. "Are those drugs?"

Norman tried to wriggle from the iron hold with a defiant sob, wrinkling his nose to express the disdain he was feeling for the demonstration of pointless brute force. However, no answer came from him, so Carter snarled at him dangerously, eyes narrowing in blank fury.

"You better tell me what's going on, or I'm getting real angry," he threatened, sick of playing Norman's little game. He wanted his answers. Right. Now.

Looking down and avoiding the lieutenant's hating stare, he let out another sob, and this time it sounded broken. Apparently the kid regretted letting Blake in in the first place.

"'s Triptocaine," he slurred languidly, now trying to push the older man away from him weakly.

"And?" Blake dug deeper, insisting on more information, and emphasized his point by ramming Norman's torso against the wall once more, eliciting a moan from the agent.

Finding this sickening, the older man stared at Jayden, loathing the pathetic sight he was exposed to. "Don't tell me you like this, asshole," he spat disgustedly, again throwing the man against the wall, again listening to the creepy moan. What the hell...?

"Fuck," Norman mumbled, head lolling to the side, mangled lip being denied at least a small pause from all the constant biting. This was getting really morbid...

"You're a fuckin' druggie, right?" The shout was loud, and the agent winced a bit.

As expected, Blake didn't get any answer this time either. Instead, Norman nudged closer, letting the vials fall to the ground carelessly. Those eyes were lit with something the lieutenant couldn't quite grasp, and they were piercing his in an intense stare that made him shudder in fear (yeah, fear). Hands gripped strong shoulders, pulling the cop near.

"Whoa, whoa!" Carter exclaimed in surprise, freeing himself and backhanding the pansy to the ground. "The fuck's this about?"

The man in question only shot him a drowsy look. Then his lips parted slightly and Jayden rolled on his back, another moan making its way out of the pale throat. This time, Blake detected a hint of bliss in it, and that unsettled him even more.

"Ah Blake, you... you make me forget the pain," that fucked up junkie laughed out in a really disturbing manner. He must have had a screw loose or something, Carter simply couldn't explain this whole shit. In any case, the agent irritated him to no end, so he bent down and grabbed one frail arm, dragging the shuddering body over to the bed.

"I think you need a fix of your stuff," he muttered harshly, throwing Norman onto the soft blanket.

Suddenly, the kid began thrashing around wildly, hitting the lieutenant in the face. Now he really lost it.

"Well, _fuck you_, you ungrateful prick!" he roared, pinning those flailing arms above the fuck's head with one hand. With the other one, he began to plant several hard punches on the belly exposed to him. This kid kind was nuts, to hit Carter like that! How fucking dare he!

Jayden stopped acting like a spazz then, and he went completely still except for a few miserable sobs. For one moment, Blake got the feeling he went too far. God, he needed the pansy _alive_! He really should learn to think things through before doing anything he might regret...

"More," came the hushed whisper, making Carter jump in surprise.


	6. Chapter 6

It felt amazing, simply overwhelming. A smile of contentment tugged at the corners of his lips, and he rolled onto his back, craving more of the delicious, numbing pain Carter had just delivered him.

He truly hadn't thought of this solution before. How could he have known that brutal punches to his stomach would make him feel better and forget about ARI and the Tripto?

His fingers grasped the sheets tightly and he tilted his head back to gaze at Blake who stood next to the bed, dumbfounded and confused. God, how should he explain all of this? His head felt as if it was about to explode, so many sensations tormenting him, so many questions riddling his mind...

"Well, pussy, looks like you've just turned into some kind of masochist. Care to explain?" The mocking tone to Carter's voice didn't bother Norman. Right now, all he cared about was to get more of this blissful oblivion which only the lieutenant was able to give him.

"Please, just give me more," Jayden pleaded frantically, inching his body up a bit so he could lean his head against the headboard of the bed. Slowly, the merciless ache caused by withdrawal crept back into his system, causing the agent quite some discomfort.

"More o' what?" Blake taunted and Norman could see the older man was already annoyed by all the mysterious, stagy fuss. "You better tell me why you've got so many suspicious vials scattered around this place, or else, you get whatever I think deserves you best!"

Suddenly, the world around Norman took on a nasty blur and a wave of cold sweat washed over him. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of his nauseating surroundings and instead concentrated on how to irritate the lieutenant even further, hoping he would get another round of beating. He was tired of using the Tripto, hated being so reliant on the damned stuff...

"The hell's going on, Jayden?" Despite the agent's expectations, the shout was devoid of any threat; however, he detected something like fear in it... He didn't react though, just attempted to control his breathing, the want for the drug dominating his mind. A pained groan slipped past his lips, and he was surprised at how fucked up it sounded.

Then, completely out of the blue, he felt a hard slap against his left cheek, startling him out of the hallucinations that had just started to form behind his eyes. Blinking a few times, he got a grip on himself and caught a glimpse of Blake staring at him in disbelief.

"Alright, that's it! I'm gonna report you for this, you sicko!" Turning around hesitantly, Blake was about to leave, but Jayden couldn't let him go like that. He seized the gruff cop's arm, pulling, causing him to stumble backwards onto the bed, right next to his own shuddering frame. Immediately, Carter turned to glare at him in contempt, making him doubt his methods of gaining distraction from the Tripto.

"You are so dead, pansy," he growled, snatching Norman's wrists and pinning them above his head with one hand. It was almost disturbing how weak the agent was; even if he wanted, he wouldn't have been able to put up much of a fight in his current condition. Now, however, he simply relished the painful blows to his chest and stomach, squeezing his eyes shut in agony and relief. Every punch weakened his demand for the Tripto, replacing it with an ache that left his thoughts clean and sharpened, the effects of withdrawal gradually wearing off.

Eventually, Blake collapsed on top of him breathlessly, apparently worn out by the exceedingly brutal display of the hatred he felt for the agent. Norman pushed him off, rolled on his side and curled up his body tightly, hugging his knees. Although he had thought it impossible, he actually felt like sleeping right now. Somehow, he was grateful for Blake's uncontrollable aggressions towards him.

For a long time, there was an awkward silence, until Carter decided to carry on his little, previously futile, interrogation.

"I'll ask you one more time," he spat, sitting up and throwing Jayden's back an accusing glare. "What is this Triptocaine, and why are you so fucked up?"

"It reduces the pain and the hallucinations..." Norman murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to block out the feeling of shame that wormed its way into his heart.

"Why would you experience hallucinations?" Blake asked, infuriated. "Normally you take drugs just for this sole purpose!"

Shaking his head slightly, the agent whispered: "You don't understand. The ARI- the glasses, they..."

"Oh, you mean those?" Carter got up from the bed, walked a few steps around it and picked up the device from the ground, where Norman had tossed them when the lieutenant had phoned him. "Yeah, I've always wondered what they're for anyway..."

Covering his face with his hands, Norman let out a stressed sigh, thinking of what could happen if Blake really reported all of this... he'd lose his badge, the FBI would have a hard time explaining this whole mess to the media, maybe they'd even get rid of him in one way or the other...

"Put 'em on and see for yourself..."

Shooting Norman a distrustful look, he slowly lifted the glasses and did as he was told.


	7. Chapter 7

***cries desperately* I'm sorry for the lack of emotional detail, but my braaaaain's hurting so much D: And nevermind the non-existing plot xD But thanks for the reviews, they encourage me to finish this terrible story :D (Next time, I should really stick with PWP, oh my.)**

* * *

„What... the fuck."

Where did this forest come from all of a sudden? Stunned, Carter waved a hand in front of his face, not able to believe what was happening here. It scared him; those were just some fucking glasses, how was this even possible? Scowling, he took a step forward, still wagging his hand around like an idiot.

"Wow, you really should see your face right now," came an amused comment from somewhere, and embarrassed, Blake immediately ripped the device from his face. It took him a few seconds to re-orientate himself and spot the miserable heap of Norman's body lying on the bed.

"Watch your mouth, pansy," he said venomously, "'Cause you're not looking any better than me at the moment." Norman's eyebrows furrowed in anger upon the retort, but he seemed to be able to control his feelings and instead said: "Put the ARI back on. Shortly before you called, I was able to locate the killer. You should be able to obtain the information... or at least I think you are."

Carter's eyes widened in surprise. The kid would never cease to amaze him, apparently. Well, what should one expect from the FBI? He was only doing his job. And then, just for the fragment of a second, the terrible realization of him treating Norman wrongly shadowed his thoughts... yet he tossed that notion aside as quickly as possible.

Delving back into the virtual reality, Blake now noticed the strange interface buzzing around his eyes. God, so much information! How could one possibly work with this complicated piece of garbage? It strained his brain and he could feel a slight headache approaching already.

So this was what Norman had meant earlier. Did he need the drug to ease this kind of pain caused by these fancy glasses? It seemed like it... Damn, that was some creepy shit. This whole stuff reminded him of some badly written science fiction novel...

"Here, I got it," he said after a while, "It says- What? Scott Shelby?" Grabbing the glasses, he pulled them away, and stared at Norman disbelievingly. "Shelby is the killer?" he blurted, narrowing his eyes, trying to grasp this small and upsetting piece of information he had just received.

"You know him?" Norman asked, slowly sitting up at last, rubbing his face. How could he only sound so unfazed?

"Fuck, he's been a good buddy of mine for years..." He remained silent for a few moments before snapping: "Are you sure your _ARI _is still working? Maybe I accidentally stepped on it-"

"Goddamn, Blake, stop questioning the FBI's technology! If the ARI says Scott Shelby is the killer, then he is, end of story!" Folding his arms in defiance, he added: "Besides, I've already encountered him, so I can safely say we can trust the device."

Carter mulled over this for a few seconds, then nodded hesitantly. If they ever wanted to catch the Origami Killer, he would have to follow them glasses' lead, that was for sure. Even if it meant imprisoning an old friend...

"Alright, I'll go there immediately. It's time to stop that bastard," he muttered with a slight feeling of regret, setting the ARI down on the desk. One of his hands reached for the gun at his side and content, he pulled his coat close, ready to leave.

"Wait, what about me?" Norman asked, his voice holding an indignant tone. Standing, he rushed at Blake's side, throwing him an accusing glare.

"You're kidding me," Carter said in a disparaging way, a sneer on his lips. "Look at you; you're in no condition to face a murderer." He opened the door, ignoring the kid's attempts at holding him back.

"Fuck you, asshole! I'm the one to arrest the killer!"

"Cry me a river," the lieutenant replied mockingly and left the apartment.


	8. Chapter 8

Jayden stood there, bewildered. Goddamn it, if he had the means, he would gladly go after the killer himself, but now he was forced to stay in his apartment. His body still shivered slightly now and then, and he felt so damn weak. It surprised him that he was even able to stand without his legs giving in.

He made his way into the bathroom, jumping slightly when he saw his reflection in the mirror. The dried blood on his face really freaked him out and he quickly grasped a towel, poured some water on it and rubbed the red streaks off gently. Still not satisfied with his looks, he nonchalantly splashed a handful of cold water into his face.

Fuck. There was this intense loathing smoldering within him and it took quite some self-control not to grab the nearest object lying around and destroy it in the wake of his anger. Bracing his arms on either side of the washing basin, he stared himself in the eyes deeply, trying to regain a cool mind.

But how should he accomplish that, anyway? That asshole Blake just wouldn't leave his thoughts alone. He certainly knew how to irritate a man, Norman gave him that. Goddamn, he hoped the lieutenant was going to die while encountering Shelby. That would just serve him right. Without the help of the agent, he would never have found out the true identity of the Origami Killer! Once again, Blake had treated him like shit, and Norman was so sick of it.

And the worst thing was that he had enjoyed Carter's physical violence- he had accepted and needed it. That must have boosted that bastard's ego to no end, he was sure about it. He felt so disgusted with himself and snorted at his reflection. "You sick fuck," he muttered, biting his lip.

Then he sauntered over to his bedroom, where the vials lay scattered on the floor. Simply looking at them made him shiver with want and he cursed that fucking stuff's existence. He quickly picked them up before regarding them for a long time. What was he to do with the Tripto? Throw it away and then pass out when the next round of withdrawal began? Keep it and stay addicted to it?

Undetermined, he just put the vials on the desk. He'd just wait and see and then decide what's best.

As he let his gaze drift a bit to the side, he caught a glimpse of the ARI. Damn that thing as well. He wouldn't need the fucking drug if he wasn't addicted to those shitty glasses also. It seemed incredible, but he couldn't even imagine his life without the device. God, he was so screwed up. Fucking vicious circle.

The suspense was killing him. It drove him crazy, not knowing what was about to happen. Usually, he was completely in control of everything, but lately, it all had gotten out of hand. First Shaun's death, with Norman responsible, now this fucking bastard Blake claiming his success for himself...

Restless, he was so restless. He tried to calm himself down, but suddenly, nothing seemed to work for him anymore and he gritted his teeth, gnashing them. With clenched fists he directed his stare back at the Triptocaine. Damn, the drug practically _begged_ to be consumed... he knew it would give him some mental peace and make him forget his sorrows...

Hesitating for a moment, he at last retracted the hand that had just developed a will of its own and forced himself to look away, out of the window. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He could do this. Ignore the sweat, the twitching muscles. _He could do this_.

How he longed for Blake's fist right now. A few punches would put everything into order again... at least for several minutes. Still better than succumbing to his perverse addiction...

"Hurry up, asshole," he muttered, raking a hand through his messy hair.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okaaaaay, this is a rather smexy scene, be warned. And also, beware of the fact that it's 3 am over here, so... don't get angry should you find any mistakes, yes? xD**

* * *

Norman awoke to the sound of a low grunt just behind him. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing but darkness as he tried to remember what exactly had happened and why he was lying on his bed. That was when he noticed that his hands were cuffed to the headboard above him and with panic flooding his mind, he desperately jerked at his restraints, yet to no avail. His eyes tried to make out anything, but it was simply too dark for him to see anything at all. Weary, he let his face fall down on the pillow, breathing in through it.

Another grunt, and this time, he felt something warm tickle the skin at the back of his neck, causing him to let out a surprised gasp. What the hell was going on?

"Don't act like a fucking pussy, Jayden, you know you want this," came a ragged whisper and Norman immediately knew who it belonged to – Blake! Norman's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How was this possible? The cop had been on the hunt for the Origami Killer, he wasn't supposed to be here! But the most important question was why that asshole was doing... this... to him...

Teeth sank into his neck and Norman arched up to evade this rather pleasant sensation, only to find that he was bucking into something above him; something warm and hard... Eyes widening in realization, he clenched his restrained fists and started another attempt at freeing himself. Behind him, Carter only laughed, apparently amused by this pitiful display.

"Let me go, idiot!" Norman yelled furiously, giving up on his futile ministrations. How much he wanted to turn around and punch that asshole in the face or balls or anything; God, he'd do just about everything to get that lunatic off him! He felt so vulnerable without his clothes on and being at Blake's mercy wasn't exactly a great feeling, either.

That... _thing_... moved against his bare ass, between his buttocks and a startled scream left his lips. That fucking bastard wouldn't actually... or would he? Rough hands suddenly gripped his hips, pulling them backwards, presumably against Blake's chest. The young agent was on all fours now, pressing his thighs and butt cheeks together in an effort to keep the invading appendage from doing its job.

"What the fucking hell is wrong with you?" The bureaucrat yelled in despair, completely shocked by Carter's intentions. He just didn't get it! It was as if someone had given that asshole a brainwash or something. Why would he want to rape his former partner? Well, yeah, they weren't best friends or anything, but still...

"Shut the fuck up, pansy," Carter replied, hands prying at the other's ass, finally getting to spread the cheeks apart and he chuckled at the whine his victim let loose in the process. "You know you want this."

_You know you want this. _The hell he wanted this! The hell he wanted that asshole to force his dick into his butt in one single, painful thrust, the hell he wanted to groan out in pain and pleasure, the hell he wanted Blake to move so agonizingly slow, to moan out in lust like that while he himself pressed against the lieutenant like a wanton whore.

Time seemed to slow down as Blake was roughly riding him, making Norman shudder with need and disgust. At least it was dark, at least he didn't have to see all of this. It made it so much easier, even though it was so fucking disgracing. But somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear himself moaning loudly with every sharp snap of Blake's hips, every time he hit that sweet spot inside him, although he tried to not let his weakness show through so fucking hard.

"Fuck, Jayden, tell me how much you like this."

It was impossible to say anything, however. All the noises he uttered were nothing more than unintelligible grunts and groans, the agent's thoughts scattered and riddled in a haze. Not that he was intent on answering, anyway.

A hard slap on his ass made him jump, though. The skin stung a little where Blake's palm had met his flesh and it made him perceive his surroundings a bit more clearly. Another slap made him - more or less - come to his senses, at last.

"Say it!" came the rasped out command again.

"F-fuck, please," Norman begged, the merciless thrusts taking their toll on his mind. He knew he shouldn't think this way, but he'd actually come to like the way Blake's big and hard member plunged into him repeatedly and without mercy and so fast... To hell with this vain defiance, it was no use anyway. Why not simply give in and enjoy this incredible sensation as long as it lasted?

Throwing his head back in eagerness, he cried out: "Oh God, Blake, it's so good, please..."

He could hear a dark chuckle behind him and suddenly, he felt a hand on his own cock, stroking him slowly. He'd almost completely forgotten about his own arousal... but he felt grateful for Blake's firm touch, quickly bringing him to the edge of completion. Biting his lip, he concentrated on the tingling in his abdomen and the taut dick sliding in and out of his ass. He was so fucking close...

And then, all of a sudden, everything disappeared and he opened his eyes – when had he closed them at all? - and the darkness was gone, Blake was gone, and all he could see was that he was lying on his back, dick in his fist, and a mess on his abdomen. His heart was racing, and he swallowed, his confused mind trying to process what had just happened.

How deep could he have sunken, jerking himself off to that asshole fucking the shit out of him? God, this was so embarrassing. He must have fallen asleep a few hours ago. He recalled being pretty tired after deciding to not take Tripto in order to stay calm. Well, he'd expected to sleep no less than a few hours, but _this_? No, this he certainly had not expected.

It wasn't the first time to awake like this either, but why the fuck did he dream of Blake? Was it because of the relief he had felt earlier, when Blake had visited him, questioned him about the Tripto and beaten him? Had he actually been enjoying the violence so much that all of a sudden, he was craving a more intimate form of it?

Oh God, he had to get his mind back under control. This was unnerving him, irritating him to no end. He just had to think about something else...

Oh, yeah, the killer. Carter had set out to find him.

Norman growled. Fuck that asshole! No, he better did not think of him, lest he got even more jazzed.

He went into the bathroom, stripping his clothes off his body. A shower would be nice, now...


End file.
